


I Got You Something

by kurokonekokilled



Series: Hozier is a Sub Bottom [3]
Category: Andrew Hozier-Byrne (Musician)
Genre: Anal Fingering, BDSM, Blowjobs, Consent is Sexy, Cunnilingus, D/s themes, Explicit Verbal Consent, F/M, Female Domme, Femdomme, It's Soft, Oral Sex, Pegging, Valentine's Day, anyway, because I deserve it, does it count as a blowie if it's on a dildo?, female dom, im sorry Mr. Hozier but I diagnose you with bottom, life questions here, male sub, once again, this was supposed to be for Christmas but I don't fucking write
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-02-11
Updated: 2020-02-11
Packaged: 2021-02-27 21:34:54
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,452
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22662580
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kurokonekokilled/pseuds/kurokonekokilled
Summary: Andrew finally gets pegged by his baby during their Valentine's Day getaway.
Relationships: Andrew Hozier-Byrne/Original Female Character(s), Hozier/Female
Series: Hozier is a Sub Bottom [3]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1621129
Comments: 6
Kudos: 25





	I Got You Something

“Honey,” Andrew murmured softly, bending his head to tuck his face in the crook of her neck. “I got you something.”

She laughed, twisting in his arms and settling her wrists around his shoulders, toying with his curls aimlessly.

“You  _ got me  _ a plane ticket to Ireland and two weeks alone with you,” she chided him with a grin, leaning up on her tiptoes to press a kiss to his cheek. “You promised me you wouldn't get me anything else for Valentine’s.”

Andrew hummed mindlessly, arms tightening around her waist as he nuzzled just beneath her ear, pressing kisses soft as the breath he let out against the sensitive skin there.

“Then I got me something,” he corrected with a grin that she could feel against her jaw.

She laughed at him, tugging lightly on his hair partly in reprimand and partly to feel him shiver against her. 

“What did you get yourself, then, Andy?” she chuckled, leaning back to look up at him with a curious grin.

“Something I need your help with,” he answered, carefully cryptic as he took a step backwards, guiding her forward with the arms around her waist.

She laughed again, brow furrowing in amused confusion as she let him clumsily lead her back towards the bedroom, the two of them stumbling slightly over uneven boards. Andrew didn't release her as he walked backwards, keeping her close to his chest and glancing back every few seconds to ensure he didn't run into anything. She could see the faint flush rising on his cheeks, the one he only bore when he was asking her to take full control, to make him beg and lose his mind with pleasure.

A grin started to form on her lips as they got closer to the bedroom, his flush becoming more apparent with every silent step they took.

“You're blushing, puppy,” she crooned teasingly, laughing as he stumbled over the threshold of the bedroom.

“I'm nervous,” he answered petulantly, eyes flicking away from hers embarrassedly. 

She let him guide her to sit on the edge of the bed, her hands coming to cradle his face delicately when he knelt in front of her.

“Baby,” she whispered softly, brushing her thumbs over his cheekbones.

His lashes fluttered in contentment, entire body swaying towards her with the kind of single minded submission that never failed to steal her breath from her lungs. When he opened them to look up at her, his eyes were soft and hazy, adoring and so gentle it made her fingers tremble.

“You don't have to be nervous, sweetheart,” she managed softly, one thumb dropping to brush lovingly over his lips, a shudder going through her at the shaky exhale he released.

“I know,” he answered, just as quietly, leaning into the gentle touch of her palms.

They stayed like that for a few moments, Andrew on his knees in front of her, face cradled in her hands as the gentle light of dusk lit the air around them. He watched her soft smile settle into something so heart wrenchingly open, so tender and calm as his breathing evened out.

He had to force himself to pull back from her, knowing he'd be more than happy to just kneel and stare in reverence at every line of her face for the rest of the night. But, as he'd said, he'd gotten something, and he really did want to put it to good use.

“Can you close your eyes?” he asked, voice breathy. “I want to surprise you.”

She huffed out an indulgent laugh, brushing her knuckles over his cheek before letting her lids slip shut.

She could hear him shift back on the balls of his feet, a smile tugging at her lips as she imagined his long limbs unfurling as his footsteps padded over to the small closet opposite the bed. Fabric rustled, a box slid open, a moment of hesitant, almost shy silence, and then he was making his way back to her, knees thudding softly against the worn wood between her feet.

His lips brushed over the inside of her knee for just a second, long fingers tugging softly at the hem of the long t-shirt she'd stolen from him that morning.

Her eyes slid back open at the third tug to her shirt, immediately locking on the liquid, heated submission in Andrew’s wide eyes, the way his lips were pink and parted and puffing warm breath against her inner thigh as he waited.

When her eyes fell to his hands, awkwardly cradled halfway out of his lap, she couldn't stop her brows from winging up, nor her own mouth from dropping open.

“Honey,” she breathed softly, reaching down and waiting for him to place it in her palm.

Waiting for him to place the sleek black strap she’d decided was too expensive to splurge on in her shaking palm. 

Her fingers wrapped around it tentatively, eyes flitting between his face and the smooth silicone in her hands. She took two deep breaths before speaking.

“You want me to bend you over for real, puppy?” she murmured, her voice sounding a lot more sure than she felt.

But any hint of trepidation vanished from her at the noise that left Andrew’s mouth in response. It was just shy of that gorgeous little whine he always let out when she sunk her fingers into him for the first time, desperate and trusting and pleading for her to just  _ touch. _

“You're so pretty like this,” she murmured, already feeling that familiar heat spread down her spine. “Sweet little puppy at my feet, just begging me to use you.”

_ “Please.” _

The breath of a word sounded like a benediction on his tongue, a prayer of the most desperate flavor, singeing the air with his need.

She couldn't have resisted if she wanted to.

“Give me your mouth,” she whispered, fingers threading through his hair and tugging him forward ever so gently.

A soft moan fluttered across her skin as he leaned forward, following the pull of her hand, lips brushing over the soft skin at the crease of her thigh, long fingers pushing the hem of her shirt up so he could better access her. 

Andrew’s eyes locked on hers as he tucked his fingers into the hem of her panties, slipping them down and off her legs slowly, the tease of the fabric almost enough to make her moan. She leaned back on her free hand, strap set aside so she could focus on him, so perfect between her thighs, eyes slipping closed as he leaned forward with a shaky breath to brush his tongue over her.

The first touch was always electric, always searing heat and a wave of unbelievable pressure as his tongue lapped a slow stripe over her core. Then came the rumble of his breathless moan, the soft suction of his lips around her clit, the flex of his fingers around her thighs, once, twice.

And then came that perfect heat of his tongue spearing into her, eyes fluttering shut in pure bliss as he ate at her, hands pulling her closer as his hips rutted up against thin air, seeking release that he knew he wouldn't be getting until he had her gasping out his name and clutching at him. 

Her fingers were tangled in his hair already, back arched like a bow as her mouth dropped open on the first of what she knew would be many broken gasps, thighs tensing in Andrew’s hands. She didn't think she'd ever get over just how  _ large  _ he really was, how wide palmed and long fingered and spindly legged he was. But it was so easy to forget, even when he dwarfed her, because he just looked so fragile, so absolutely breakably small like this, her hands directing his movements, his eyes blissful and pleading all at once.

Because he was  _ hers,  _ although she'd never claim to own him. No, he was her baby, her puppy, her darling, sweet boy, and good god did she love his tongue.

She loved him.

And he could feel that love in the tips of her fingers, even as her nails scratched against his scalp, breathless gasps of his name and mumbled praises falling from her lips as her entire body stiffened around him. Her hips jolted against his face, and he could taste her desperation on his tongue, her breathless, aching love for him as she came with a hoarse cry.

Her fingers never stopped petting through his hair even as she flopped back on the bed inelegantly, shivering at the feeling of Andrew panting breathlessly against her thigh. She basked for a moment, letting her breathing even out as she let the tingling overstimulation fade from her nerves.

Andrew whined against her knee, ever needy and desperate, and she huffed out a fond laugh as she propped herself back up on her elbows, eyes meeting his. They flitted over to the strap still lying innocuously next to her arm, a grin stretching her lips.

“You gonna take that for me, pup?” she crooned down at him, carding her fingers through his hair.

He whined again, hips shifting uncomfortably as his cock strained against the fabric of his sweatpants. 

“Please, baby,” he whimpered, eyes pleading and desperate and full of the kind of burning, open heat that never failed to absolutely melt her.

She hummed thoughtfully, tilting her head as she watched his blush spread down his cheeks to stain his throat, his adam’s apple working as he felt her stare raking over him. 

“Strip,” she instructed, tone flat and carefully devoid of emotion, nodding her chin at him as she watched him hesitate.

All it took was the elegant raise of a brow for him to be clambering back to his feet, hands racing to pull the thin fabric of his sweater over his head. She turned to the strap lying beside her, picking it up and turning it in her hands as she kept her attention half on him. He was already fumbling his sweatpants down long legs when she traced her fingers over the curve of its shaft.

He’d gotten her a strapless one - one that she’d been looking at for a while, but hadn’t wanted to spend quite enough to actually buy when she wasn’t sure he’d even want it - sleek and lightly ribbed, probably eight inches and heavy in her hands.

She turned her gaze back to him, flicking her gaze to the ground imperiously. 

His knees hit the worn wood without a second’s hesitation.

She grinned as she watched his hands tremble with the desperate desire to touch, to hold and cling and  _ feel  _ as he knelt several feet from her. The hitch of his breath matched hers when she slid the insertable portion down over her core gently, his pupils dilating as he watched it slide, slick and full, inside of her. She had to bite back a groan at the breathless whimper that fell from his lips when his eyes met hers again.

“Come here,” she murmured as she sat up, one hand wrapped around the cock nestled snugly to her body, the other outstretched to him.

Her heart stammered when he dropped his hands to the floor and crawled the few paces between them, cheeks flaming and mouth dropped open, wide eyes flitting between her face and where her fingers were idly toying with the head of the cock.

She smiled down at him as soon as her fingers tangled in his hair, his knees coming to rest comfortably between her feet, head tipped adoringly into her open palm.

“You’re so pretty, baby,” she whispered down to him, her voice reflective of the gentle affection welling in her gut and tangling with the lust already present there. “Such a good boy for me, Andy, I’m so proud of you.”

He let out a broken little exhale, his lips tracing the curve of her thumb as he stared up at her, those soulful eyes wide and adoring and so unbearably tender.

“Thank you,” he choked out, lips parting to wrap warm around her thumb, eyes slipping shut at the approving hum he got in return.

“How do you want to do this, baby?” she asked him, pulling her thumb from between his lips to rub it over the crease of them, marvelling at the soft, wet heat. 

Half of her wanted to just sit there for hours, just watch the way his pupils blew at every little movement, feel the flutter of his tongue against her skin, see his pulse jump in his throat. But she was already too far gone to draw this out, needed him under her, letting out those pretty little whines and desperate pleas. 

She wanted to know what it would feel like when she made him ride her.

“Can I,” he started breathlessly, tongue dipping out to we his lips as his eyes fell back to the cock between her thighs, his own throbbing with need. “Can I suck it?”

Her brows winged up at that, fingers stumbling in their path through his curls even as her hips gave an abortive little thrust that absolutely screamed  _ yes.  _

“You wanna suck me off, honey?” she asked, eyes dark with want, with need, her fingers flexing in his hair. 

“Please,” he answered almost as soon as the words fell from her lips, shuffling closer and licking his lips. “I already -” he blushed further, glanced away before mumbling the rest, “I prepped myself earlier.”

Her heart stuttered in her chest, forcing its way to her throat as she struggled to breathe through the wave of heat slamming into her. 

“Puppy,” she murmured, voice reverent as she glanced between his thighs, noticing the telltale slight shine of lube, her pulse rocketing in her veins. “Yeah, honey, you can suck it. Let me see you use that gorgeous mouth.”

He didn’t make her wait, his head dipping between her thighs for the second time that night, lips parting for silicone rather than flesh this time, and even if she couldn’t feel his tongue, she definitely felt the punch of heat to her gut when those hapless eyes locked on hers, lips closing gently around the head.

She swallowed harshly and watched him mirror the motion, feeling the strap bob with it and shift inside of her. Curling both hands in his hair, she gently guided him down, exultations and whispers of praise falling from her lips as she watched his jaw move as he worked his tongue over the strap. 

He looked so perfect like this, better than her half formed fantasies could have ever conjured up. Moonlight threaded through his hair just as her fingers did, arching over his brow and twinkling in his eyes, his entire lanky body folded to fit at her feet as he worshiped his tongue over the warming plastic like it was truly an extension of her.

“So pretty,” she murmured, teeth catching at her bottom lip as she watched him hollow his cheeks, wide, deep set eyes staring up at her in reverent adoration. 

One of his hands daringly rose from where they’d been clutching at his thighs to tangle with one of hers in his hair. She raised an expectant brow, knowing that he knew better than to move without instruction - unless he thought his idea would distract her enough to keep her from reprimanding him.

When she felt Andrew’s hand nudge at her own, once, then again, more insistently, she felt her breath catch at the implication, her fingers curling reflexively in his mess of curls, nails scratching at his scalp in a way that made his lashes flutter, tawny red against the pale flush of his hollowed out cheeks. 

Rosy red lips wrapped around her cock.

She bit back the surge of lust, watching him carefully as she rolled her hips forward tentatively. Watched as his eyes bulged, then rolled back as he let his lids slide shut, watched his lips tremble with aborted breath as he forced his throat to open for the intrusion, pushing his own head forward more than she really was. She felt the first brush of his nose against her hips, felt him cough around the cock, pull back an inch. And then he was all the way down, eyes teary and rolled back into his skull in an expression of pure, tempestuous bliss, lips pressed firmly into her groin. 

He’d taken it all. 

Eight, maybe even nine inches down his throat with barely a flinch. She felt like she could cum just from the knowledge alone, not even considering the pretty sight he made kneeling between her spread thighs with tears and drool dripping from his chin. 

But it was him pulling back that truly nearly undid her. She could feel the cock twitch and jolt against her at every movement of his throat, every inch he pulled back another delicious slide against her, inside of her, and when his lips parted from the toy, she groaned aloud at the sight.

His lips were red, his cheeks redder, eyes bleary and desperate, hips shifting as he settled back on his heels again, and there was a single line of drool connecting him to the strap.

“Puppy,” she choked out, torn between keeping her eyes glued to the tremble in his bottom lip and keeping them on the gorgeous plea in his own gaze. “Do you want me to fuck you?”

She didn’t have to wait a single second for the answer.

_ “Yes,” _ fell from his lips in a sob, voice scratchy and hoarse as he prayed at her feet for the culmination they both craved.

So she didn’t waste time, standing abruptly and hooking two fingers under his chin, tugging until he clambered to his feet, hands catching at her hips for half a second before he caught his footing. She always loved how desperate he was to touch her, like a worshipper at the shrine of a god of his own creation, pleading for just a moment of his skin brushing hers, but too afraid to wear away the stone he’d so lovingly carved with his handprints.

But she was not stone, nor had he formed her, so she pulled his hands back to her waist, settling them there before trailing her own up his skinny chest, nails trailing a pleasant tingle over the skin as her wrists settled on either side of his neck, fingers toying with loose strands of his hair.

“Kiss me.”

And he was on her like a man starving, the whole lanky length of his form pressed tight against her, knees bent to rut his own cock against the one between her legs, mouth testing and pleading and savoring every inch he was given. She sucked his tongue into her mouth and hummed a laugh at the reedy whine that vibrated up his throat to coat her own tongue. 

He was so much taller than her, all long limbs and looming height, but he felt so small here in her arms, trembling at her every touch, head bent to kiss her like he wanted to work his way into her very soul, entire body arching at the feather light touches she trailed over his shoulder blades. 

He went so easily, so willingly, as she turned them and pressed him back towards the bed, keeping his mouth on hers as they both smiled into the kiss, growing more tender by the second. They finally broke apart when the backs of his knees hit the bed, body jolting to stay upright until she wrapped a hand around his waist and guided him down ever so gently, letting him sink into the plush foam as she stepped back.

Her hand reflexively went to wrap around the cock, a grin slashing across her face when he saw his throat work over an excited swallow. 

“Lie back, honey.”

Her words were barely louder than a whisper in the quiet moonlight, floating towards the open window to mingle with the scurrying of foxes in the garden. He lied back, spine long and fluidly graceful like this, arms at his sides as he settled his head against the mattress, keeping his eyes on her as she watched him.

He watched her take a deep breath, eyes scoring over every visible inh of his skin, seeming to sink into his very flesh and brand him to his core. She stepped back further, and he almost whimpered at the distance between them before he saw her fumbling the drawer open, fingers closing around the bottle of lube they’d stashed there on their first night. 

His breath hitched when he heard the snap of the lid popping open.

“Spread your legs for me, sweetheart,” she crooned, stepping forward as she rubbed lube between her fingers, warming it against her own skin. 

She watched in awe as he did, long legs falling open, splayed across the bedspread like that was exactly what they were meant for, body open and willing and pleading for her fingers. He didn’t mention the tremble he felt in her hand when she reached between his thighs, index circling his rim testingly, eyes glued to his face.

His breath evaporated from his lungs when he felt it sink inside of him, warm and smooth and wet, his body welcoming the intrusion, gripping at her like he couldn’t wait a single second longer. She didn’t make him, pulling back to sink a second inside of him, driving them deep and crooking them, searching for a moment before a breathy whine punched from his lungs, spine arching clean off the bed.

She thought, in that moment, that she understood why people called him fae, called him eldritch, because the  _ being  _ on her bed, coming apart under her fingers, he was far too ephemeral, far too brilliant to possibly be something as mundane as human.

But then he was whining, squirming back against her, and she was catching her breath even as she sank another finger inside of him, her mouth dropping open at the shout that wrung from his lips.

“Please,” he sobbed out, the hand not fisted in the sheets reaching out blindly to tug on hers still resting comfortingly on his hip. “Fuck me.”

She could never resist him, certainly not like this, strung out and pleading so prettily.

So she pulled back, gut clenching at the whine that trailed from his throat, and drizzled more of the lube onto the strap. Slicking her hand over it, she urged Andrew down until he was laying at just the perfect angle for her to step between his parted thighs. 

The moment the tip of it brushed against his entrance, they both froze, nerves and need rocketing through them in rapid succession. All it took was a single look into that gorgeous, haunting face, eyes wide with worry, for her to lean up, clean hand tugging his hair until he met her in a kiss, eyes slipping closed and tension draining from him visibly.

“Do you still want this?” she asked him, voice merely a whisper against his lips.

His response was much the same, barely uttered into the stillness of the midnight air.

“Yes.”

She kept her eyes on his as she guided herself forward, watching for the smallest scrap of hesitancy, but he stayed steady, wanting and pleading and a little nervous, right up until the head of it pressed through the resistance of his rim and popped inside of him. 

And then it was suddenly  _ real,  _ happening and not stopping, and he clenched up for half a second before his entire body went loose, a shaky exhale punching out of his gut.

If she hadn’t been watching him so closely, she’d swear he came just from that.

But he was still hard, and he wasn’t oversensitive, simply opening and letting her press inside, deeper, deeper, until her hips were pressed tight to his and her breaths were coming out in something akin to sobs. 

That sensation was nothing compared to when she started moving, body rolling like she’d been doing this her whole life, Andrew gasping and moaning and clinging to her as they both let the tide of feeling wash through them, breath intermingling as she pressed deep into him, hands held tight together.

It seemed to last forever and scarcely a second at the same time, the moments bleeding into a haze of feeling, of passion and desperation and adoration, and then he was arching again, thighs wrapping around her waist, entire body writhing against her, words devolving into a mess of overstimulated whimpers.

Staring down at him in awe, she felt like she’d cum with him, euphoria soaring high in her veins, thighs trembling as she clutched him close, not caring about the mess between their bodies. She gave him a few seconds before slowly pulling back and sliding the strap out of him, the noise he made like a punch to the gut as she pulled it out of herself and tossed it to the foot of the bed. They could clean it later, but for now, he needed her.

And gods, did she need him. 

She knew he always needed to be grounded after a scene, needed to cling to her while he floated through the bliss of subspace, but she needed it as much as he did this time. She needed to feel him holding onto her, needed his heartbeat thudding against her ribs, his breath puffing against her breast, tears wet against her skin as he sobbed smiles into her skin, branding her just as she had him. 

She felt like she was flying, the world passing by in indiscernible shapes and colors, nothing clear save for the brilliant lines of Andrew, pressed tight to her side and letting the overwhelming joy leak out of the corners of his eyes as he pressed kisses to her bare skin.

She’d check in with him in a bit, make sure he was ok, that he was glad they’d done this, clean him up properly and get him situated in a bath, light some of the lavender candles she’d bought him. 

But right now, right now he needed to float.

And she did too.

So she pulled him tight to her, lips pressing into his hair, her own tears leaking out to join his coloring the air, and clutched him there, keeping her light, her life pressed to her skin, bodies trembling in the shocks, the afterglow.

And for now, they just drifted on their own rose colored clouds in the space only the two of them would ever know existed. 

**Author's Note:**

> So this was,,,,, really fucking hard for me actually. I've never pegged anyone before (can you tell), but even so writing a scene this heavy with a Domme this nice was really difficult because I'm /not/ nice when I Domme? Or when I sub? Like I just don't do nice sex so writing loving sweet sex is really wacky for me BUT it's what Mr. Hozier deserves. This is also partially me bitching bc I want a strapless strap and can't afford one and I think that's not very sexy of god at all.
> 
> Once again, I apologize to Mr. Hozier and mean him no harm through this, he's just a really interesting character study and writing him and scenarios I think of him in is a challenge for me and I think that's important in writing!!!
> 
> ANYWAY  
> I'll maybe finish the Seireitei Dungeon pieces I'm working on rn at some point eventually if I get my ass in gear. But for now, Mr. Hozier take the stage!!!


End file.
